Sweet Fantasy
by Karen-Charlene
Summary: "The thing that makes a fantasy great is the possibility that it might come true, and when you lose that possibility, it just kind of sucks." Warrick pays a visit to Catherine's house after her confession in order to confront her, and secrets are revealed. Set after episode 6x01 'Bodies in Motion.'


**Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine.**

**Rating: M**

**A/N: I'm so excited to be writing again! I forgot how much fun it is. Anyway, this fic has been stuck in my head for about 84 years so I thought now was a good opportunity to finally write it.  
>Enjoy!<strong>

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><p><strong>Sweet Fantasy<strong>

_"The thing that makes a fantasy great is the possibility that it might come true, and when you lose that possibility, it just kind of sucks."_

Those words still echoed in his head, even hours after being said. Persistently they pressed on him to do something—anything: talk to her about them; confront her; return those feelings; _face_ her. He knew he had to face her, sooner rather than later, and he hated her for that. He hated her for confusing him like that, for messing with his head and his heart, for making him feel all these feelings he couldn't name and didn't know what to do with. He hated Catherine for waiting this long to tell him the truth.

Warrick rubbed his hand across a tired and frustrated face, and upon feeling a cold metal against his skin, removed the hand from his face to observe his newly adorned finger.

_God,_ he groaned. He didn't even think what it would do to his fresh marriage, to Tina. Was he even going to tell Tina? _No, of course not._ She was perhaps his wife, but this was between him and Catherine, and him and Catherine only. Sharing his new discovery with his wife would just hurt her and cause problems this early on in their marriage.

Absentmindedly toying with the ring on his finger, he flashed back to the night he'd asked Tina to marry him. They'd been going out for less than two months when Nick was kidnapped. Watching his best friend being pulled out of an exploding hole in the ground had given Warrick a whole new perspective on life and reminded him that he was already close to turning forty, which had him wondering what he was doing with his life.

Was burying himself in his work with the dead and charming one night stands on his free time all he wanted to do for the rest of his life? That thought had scared him—scared him to no end. So, in a moment of irrational panic, he'd popped the question to his excited girlfriend, and two days later they were at a drive-through chapel, reciting vows.

When a voice pulled him out of his thoughts, he noticed the piece of jewelry was no longer on his finger but dancing on the break room table between his thumb and forefinger.

"Warrick? Can you hear me?" Sara raised her voice, and for the first time Warrick noticed he wasn't alone in the room and raised his head to see his brunette colleague standing by the coffee machine.

"Sorry." He sighed, sliding the ring back onto his finger. "I was… just thinking."

Squinting at her co-worker, Sara decided not to push the subject, figuring he'd tell her what was on his mind if he wanted to. Instead, she gestured to the coffee machine and said, "I'm stealing some of Greg's Blue Hawaiian coffee, want some?"

"No, Thanks," Warrick replied, pushing his chair back. "I better go home. My shift ended an hour ago."

He stopped by the door and turned around, a frown apparent on his face. "You're not going home?"

"Nah," the brunette shook her head. "Pulling a double."

"Well, have fun." And with that, he left the room with a clear destination in mind.

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><p>Catherine usually didn't tend to drink alcohol when her daughter was home, but she figured the night she had had required at least one glass of the bitter liquid. Besides, her daughter was asleep.<p>

She opened her wine cupboard to discover a half-empty bottle of red wine. She really needed to find a new hobby to help her get through hard times.

As she watched the dark liquid slowly spilling into her glass, she thought about the previous night. The image of Warrick's new wedding band wouldn't leave her mind and for the hundredth time since she'd first seen it she wondered if the fact that he hadn't told her about his marriage indeed was the major reason to her sour mood.

Of course, she was hurt. Putting deeper feelings aside, Warrick had been her friend for longer than she cared to admit. He'd always been by her side and she'd been by his. He knew her darkest secrets including Eddie's cheating and abuse and her addiction to the white powder, yet Catherine couldn't quite say the same about him.

Sure, she would more than often be the first person he'd confide in, but he never really exposed his innermost secrets to her, such as his addiction to gambling—which she'd had to find out by accident from Grissom as well as learn that even Sara had known—and now his marriage.

It seemed a little petty, she admitted, but she couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps she saw more to their relationship than he did.

Nevertheless, that issue stayed in the back of her mind, serving as an excuse to Warrick, herself, and everyone else, when the thing that truly bothered her was the violent shattering of her long-lived fantasy, as she had unwillingly and with great effort admitted to Warrick earlier that night.

For years Catherine had felt something for Warrick, something she had spent a great amount of her time ignoring or denying. The first hints of feelings had initially surfaced when Grissom had introduced Warrick, the new asset of the lab, all those years prior. The sparks flying through Catherine's body at the touch of his hand to hers had sent confusion as well as sheer excitement to her subconscious.

However, back then she had been married (she would like to say happily, but that would be as much a lie as saying that bugs didn't give Grissom butterflies). She couldn't act upon her feelings back then—wasn't sure she wanted to—but as the years had flown by, those feelings had increased and consumed her mind and soul, being triggered by the smallest of things, whether it be the way his brows would furrow when he was deep in thought over a case or the reverberating sound of his hearty laugh or—and that was Catherine's favorite—the look of his smooth, chocolate-brown chest when he would take his shirt off in the locker room. Catherine had always been one to appreciate slightly hairy chests, but she was sure that, for him, she could make an exception.

When she and Eddie had divorced, she thought that she could finally act on her feelings and start something with her co-CSI. However, that plan was never carried out as the fear of rejection, lack of professionalism, or exposure of her secretly kept thoughts struck, leaving her cowering.

So, she'd settled on casual flirting and exchanges of looks every now and then, but that had been about it. It wasn't a happily-ever-after fantasy, but it was something, and it had been enough to keep her and her raging emotions in check.

Until she'd seen the wedding band.

At that moment, her entire world had collapsed beneath her and she'd literally had to stabilize her feet on the ground to prevent her own body from collapsing as well.

There was no point in denying that her cowardice and cowardice only had brought her to that point of seeing another woman's ring on the finger of the man she'd by now loved, and it was that cowardice that had caused in her never having the chance to confess her feelings to him.

After filling up her third glass of wine, Catherine pulled her knees to her chest and stared into empty space. She remembered how hours earlier she had been forced to explain her unusual behavior and lack of support to an oblivious Warrick. It was only then, at a point where it was already too late, that she had finally shared her fantasy with him and confessed the feelings she had done such a great job concealing since the first time he had shaken her hand in the break room.

She hadn't known what to make of the face staring at her; had it been only shock she'd seen there, or rather sorrow or _remorse_? It didn't matter, though, because she now knew that her fantasy would have to stay what it had always been—a fantasy—for eternity, and so for the rest of their shift she had put great effort into avoiding him and discussing only the case with him when necessary.

A banging at the front door drew her out of her thoughts and forced her off the couch out of fear of them waking her daughter. She hurried to put a stop to the unwelcome sound. However, little did she know that the man waiting for her on the other side of the door was the same one currently occupying her thoughts.

A sharp pang hit her chest upon pulling the door open to face a pair of green eyes filled with pain and anger. "Warrick?" she said almost inaudibly.

"Did you mean it?" he drove right into the subject, causing her to mentally stumble back. Despite the subject of, well, his entire being permanently occupying her thoughts, her mind nevertheless was alcohol induced and it took her a moment to even register his question.

"Wh… mean what?"

"What you said earlier, at the lab," he persisted.

Her confession returned to her at full force, causing the ache in her chest to intensify, and she sighed and opened the door wider. "Come on in."

Upon entering her home, Warrick took notice of the wine bottle and glass on the coffee table in the living room and decided to neglect the subject for which he'd come for to question, "Is Lindsey not home?"

"No, she's upstairs, sleeping," Catherine replied as she shut the door behind him.

Warrick nodded in response. He knew Catherine made it a rule not to drink around her daughter, especially after witnessing Eddie doing it so many times in the past and experiencing the consequences, and for a second he wondered if this time she'd made the exception for the same reason he was currently in such great need for an alcoholic beverage.

When he turned back to face her, he noticed her hands were planted in her pockets and her eyes were scanning the floor quite frantically. It physically pained him to see her so nervous around him, for their relationship, for years, had been the one stable thing in his life. They could always joke and flirt and talk freely about anything and nothing and never feel uncomfortable about it. She was the only person he knew he could tell almost everything to, confide his deepest secrets and feelings in, without ever being judged because she always had his back.

How could he have been so stupid and not notice that beneath that confident and flirtatious exterior, she had always felt more than she'd let on? The fact that he had practically had to force her true feelings out of her mouth showed him how broken their relationship actually was, and he wondered, briefly, upon seeing the nervous look in her eyes, if they could ever go back to the way they'd used to be.

"So," he asked again, "did you mean it?"

As another sigh escaped her lips, Catherine finally looked up to find that hypnotizing pair of green eyes staring at her intently, studying every line on her face. That sort of observing gaze would probably cause her to feel uncomfortable coming from any other person, but coming from Warrick, she found it strangely soothing.

"Does it matter?" She shrugged. "You're married, and I'm happy for you, I really am. If you are."

"That's not what I asked," he insisted gently.

"Warrick…"

"Please," he almost begged, his eyes glued to hers, "I need to know."

"Why? Why does it matter now?"

Instead of answering her question, he came up with another one of his own. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

At that question, Catherine hung her head again and felt the first hint of tears rising in her throat. She quickly swallowed the lump and licked her dry lips before plucking up the courage to look up again. Nevertheless, she completely ignored his question as she began moving toward the door.

"I think you should go."

With the slowness of eternity, she reached for the door handle, ready to open it and break the one steady thing she had in her life; her only healthy relationship. She realized, however, that that decision wasn't solely up to her as the second the door opened an inch, a heavy hand stilled its movement.

Catherine sensed before saw the large body standing mere inches from her, and involuntarily her breath began to heave and come out raggedly. Under the intensity of the moment, she practically had to force her eyes to look up at the man before her, and she suddenly craved his touch and closeness more than anything she'd ever known.

"I'm not going until you tell me why you kept this from me." This time his voice was harsher and it physically pained her to see—or rather hear—what she had done to him; to their relationship.

Her own voice weak, she said, "Warrick, you shouldn't be here. You should be with your wife."

"Do you want me to be with her?" That question threw her completely off guard and she had to take a step back to surmise their predicament. For the first time since her earlier confession at work, she finally realized what she must have done to Warrick and his marriage, and she couldn't be so selfish and mess with his relationship just to satisfy her own happiness, not after everything Eddie had put her through in the past.

"I just want you to be happy," she replied in a voice just above a whisper, feeling the tears rising up in her throat again.

"Then why didn't you tell me before?" he demanded, and it seemed the weaker her voice got, the harsher his did. He couldn't help being furious with her for keeping him in the dark and taking it upon herself to determine the nature of their relationship. In the back of his mind he knew he couldn't exactly blame her for fearing to voice her feelings—especially when he'd never made a move to voice his—and he sure as hell couldn't be angry with her for choosing who she wanted or didn't want to be with. But he was angry with her for finally sharing those feelings with him when it was too late, when he was already taken by another woman, trying to be happy, because he couldn't help thinking where he'd be right now had she confided in him sooner.

Attempting to summon her sternest, most determined tone, Catherine replied, "Because it doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters," Warrick practically yelled.

"Why?" she returned his tone.

"Because then I wouldn't have married her!"

To say that Catherine was shocked by his statement would be the understatement of the year. She was dumbstruck, astounded, and she couldn't help but gasp. Mouth gapped, eyes wide open, she stared at the man before her, astonishment filling her features, as she tried to make sense of his declaration.

When realization finally dawned on her and she found her words, she muttered, "You don't mean that."

However shocked by his own statement, Warrick wouldn't show the influence it had on him as he took a step closer to close the gap between their heated bodies—hardly realizing the affect it had on Catherine—and bore his eyes deeply into hers. With slight hesitation and more determination in his mind, he raised his hand to palm her cheek, and Catherine closed her eyes at the contact. Heavily breathing, she let the sensation of his warm touch wash over her body and senses and send jolts of electricity through her veins. In that moment, the entire world had ceased to exist and the tender movement of his thumb across her cheekbone was the only thing that mattered; _they_ were the only thing that mattered.

She sensed him lowering his head to her level, but wouldn't dare open her eyes out of sheer fear that this was yet another fantasy and upon opening her eyes she would be forcefully returned into reality. So she reveled in his warm breath blowing on her face, gradually getting closer, before his lips finally made contact with her forehead.

At that moment the ground dissolved beneath her feet and she felt herself collapsing into his body, a sigh leaving her lips. Warrick, in turn, wrapped his arms around her petite body and held her in his strong embrace, sniffing in the scent of her strawberry shampoo.

"It's true," he whispered into her soft hair. "It always has been."

His tight yet soft embrace felt so good around her body, that it practically pained Catherine to pull back and lock eyes with him. She knew she didn't have to say anything; her eyes said it all. And, truth be told, she didn't know if there was anything to be said.

Once again, Warrick lowered his head to meet hers, but this time his destination south from her forehead and Catherine felt her entire being tense under the anticipation of his kiss. For years she had wondered what his lips would feel like against hers; since the very first time she'd shaken his hand. Would they be rough and firm like his personality or taste of chocolate like his skin color? Would the kiss be intense and heated or would he take his time exploring her lips softly? Now that she was finally about to find out, she was so utterly terrified of the reality of the moment that closing her eyes, she decided, was in her best interest.

When his lips finally—oh, _finally_—landed on hers, it was everything she had ever expected it to be and more. The kiss was sweet and gentle, yet full of passion and desire at the same time, and she found it too hard to keep her legs steady beneath her. Grabbing both sides of his face in her hands and holding him to her, she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss by parting her lips ever so slightly. It was enough encouragement for Warrick to open his own mouth and nibble gently on her lower lip before letting go.

Determined to stay in that magical moment a bit longer, however, Catherine kept her lips pressed against his, her eyes shut tightly. Warrick gently brought his hands up to stroke some golden locks away from her face before pulling it to rest on his chest, whereas her hands finally left his face and she wrapped her arms around his broad torso, holding him close to her body, not wanting to ever let go.

The couple's heavy breaths were the only sound in the dimly lit room as they contemplated what to do next. They could easily stop what they were doing and claim that they had just been caught up in the heat of the moment, but it was obvious that neither one desired that option. Instead, Warrick palmed Catherine's cheek and pulled her head up while her hands drew soft circles on his back, and before long their lips met again, this time in a much more fiery contact.

Catherine's lips once again parted, this time inviting Warrick's tongue into her mouth, an offer he gladly took. As their tongues intertwined gently, he briefly wondered on how many levels what he was doing was wrong, but when one of Catherine's hands left his back to rest at the back of his nape and pull his head closer, all thoughts of his wife, work, and general etiquette vanished from his head as he found himself completely and utterly lost in the kiss of Catherine Willows.

Never had he tasted such a soft and sweet mouth, and never had he been kissed with such passion and love. In that moment, he knew that, no matter what, that woman had captivated his heart and soul and he was her willing slave, ready to do anything and everything for her.

With that in mind, he gently took hold of her waist and lifted her up against his body. Catherine, completely lost in the moment, was late to register her legs were no longer planted on the ground but rather dangling in the air. When she did, however, she nothing but wrapped them around Warrick's waist, silently allowing him to walk them over to the nearest wall, against which he gently pressed her.

Soon Warrick's lungs began screaming for much needed air and white spots began forming on his eyelids, but he was not yet ready to let go of Catherine's dreamy lips. Her tongue, mingling with his, felt oh-so-good, and a momentary thought that he could easily get used to it released a quiet groan from his throat.

As nice as her tongue felt, nevertheless, he knew that he would like to continue kissing her rather than pass out, and so he finally let go of her lips, gasping for that precious air. Catherine, apparently in the same condition, filled her lungs with air before blowing it out, and Warrick watched, mesmerized, as her chest heaved and sank with every breath she took.

Unable to keep his lips off of her, he latched onto her neck instead and she, in turn, tilted her head aside in order to grant him more access. As Warrick kissed, licked, and nibbled on the sensitive skin he found just below her earlobe, Catherine was unable to suppress the moan rising up in her throat, a sound that aided to drive Warrick crazy as he lowered his kisses to her collarbone. Catherine, in response, entangled her fingers in his thick curls, drawing his head closer.

Warrick had never felt and tasted such smooth, sweet skin, and he briefly wondered why the fact that he had a wife—a fresh one at that—hardly bothered him. As if reading his mind, however, Catherine drew in a deep breath before pushing his head away. He stared at her as she attempted to catch her breath and gather her thoughts.

"We can't…" she panted, "we can't do this."

In response, Warrick lowered his hand to the back of her knee and ran it up her thigh. "We don't have to do anything you don't want," he semi-whispered.

"No, it's not that. God, you have no idea how badly I want this." Catherine caressed his cheek before closing her eyes, unable to believe she was about to put an end to the moment she had fantasized about for so long. Upon reopening them again, she found his dazzling, green eyes still staring at her expectantly, which only aided to sadden her more. "But you're married."

"I wish I wasn't." Warrick sighed and and let her back down to the ground, and Catherine, for the first time that morning, softly smiled at him and ran her hand down his chest.

"I didn't even know what I was doing," he finally confessed. "After everything that had happened with Nick, I just realized… life's too short, you know? I mean, here I am, pushing forty, and I was afraid."

"Of what?"

"Of spending it alone," he admitted, his eyes boring into hers. "If only I'd known…" he began, but found himself unable to continue the sentence, contemplating the possibilities an earlier admission of her feelings toward him could have led to.

Catherine, once again, couldn't help but feel guilty, and her eyes held so much sorrow in them as she whispered, "I'm sorry."

Cupping her cheeks in his big palms, he tilted her head back and pressed his forehead to hers. "I'm gonna leave her," he whispered, his thumbs caressing her cheekbones softly.

Catherine, however, pulled back with a frown. "What?"

"I never really wanted this, anyway," he admitted.

"No, Warrick." She shook her head. "You can't do that to her."

As a small smile slowly crept onto the lips she had just kissed minutes ago, Catherine's frown deepened and she watched as Warrick shook his head in what almost seemed to be amusement. "You don't get it, do you?"

"Don't get what?" she questioned and Warrick had to suppress a chuckle upon seeing the sheer confusion on her face. Once again, he stepped forward, taking the sides of her head in his palms.

"I wanted to be with you, Catherine Willows, since the first moment I saw you."

Catherine's heart skipped a beat and she wasn't sure she had heard him correctly. Every word he'd said took eternity to register in her head, bringing her to even more confusion and making it difficult to breathe. "What?" she said nearly inaudibly.

"That time Grissom first introduced us," Warrick attempted to remind her. Little did he know that that day was etched into Catherine's head for eternity. "You were wearing that purple sweater and I remember thinking I'd never seen such blue eyes. I knew I could stare into them for the rest of my life."

By now, Catherine's heart was beating so fast, she was sure it would jump out of her chest at any given moment. His words echoing in her head repeatedly, she placed her hands on his chest and ran them up and down, feeling his own heart beating against them.

"God, how I wanted to kiss you back then," he breathed. The sparkle in her eyes was all the approval he needed to lower his face to hers again, and when their lips were mere inches apart, he added with a whisper, "and ever since."

It was Catherine, however, who finished the job for him by crashing her lips onto his. Unlike the kisses they had shared moments earlier, this one was ferocious and full of hunger and it took Warrick short moments to re-wrap his arms around her body and lift her up again. This time, however, she was quick to wrap her legs around his torso as he, again, backed her up against the wall and began trailing his fiery kisses down her jaw line and neck.

In the back of her mind, Catherine knew that what they were doing was wrong—oh, so wrong. She had been a wife of a cheater and had vowed to never put up with one, let alone cheat herself, yet here she was, moaning softly as the man—the _married _man—she had spent so many years concealing feelings for, pleasured her. However, the little nips of his lips on the skin just below her chin felt so incredible, she quickly pushed the subject back into the back of her mind and took hold of his head, bringing his lips back to meet hers.

As Warrick's lips were caressing hers with such tenderness she had never experienced before, Catherine's hands disappeared beneath his T-shirt, desperate to feel some skin. Her fingers trailed teasingly up his back, feeling every muscle relaxing beneath her touch. She paid close attention into massaging every single vertebra on his spine and relished in the throaty sounds he released into their kiss.

Warrick was so lost in the sweet sensations Catherine's lips and tongue were creating in his body that it took him a while to register her tugs on his T-shirt. A small smirk spread on his lips as he contemplated teasing her a bit longer and heightening her need to rid him of his clothing, however when her hips began grinding against his and he felt her heat all the way through their clothes, he broke the kiss with a sloppy pop and practically ripped the shirt from his body.

The cheeky look on Catherine's face was rewarding enough as she examined his now bare torso approvingly. Before he could resume their kiss, her hand came up to rest on his smooth chest and ran across it, her face mesmerized, as if trying to commit the feeling of his body to memory.

Instead of returning his lips to hers, Warrick reached for the hem of Catherine's own tank top and curled his fingers into it. Moving in a near glacial pace, he dragged the material up her torso, revealing new pieces of creamy, freckled skin with each passing second. When he'd revealed her bra-clad breasts, Catherine was already waiting for him with her arms up and he pulled the garment off her body in a swift move and discarded it by his feet.

It took all of his resolve not to attack her still covered breasts with his lips right then. Instead, he ran his big hands down her sides and relished in the slight shudders her body gave in response and the tightening of her legs around his hips.

Her heels pressing against his bottom, she took hold of his fair neck and drew him in for another heated, full-on-tongues kiss. She was unable to suppress a sigh of contentment as his hands trailed teasing patters across her back until settling on her bra clasp and releasing her breasts from their confines. She merely arched her back, never breaking from his sweet kiss, and allowed him to pull the undergarment from her body.

The bra landed beside their shirts about the same time Warrick's lips left Catherine's, much to her discontentment, and traveled down her jaw line, neck, and chest, finally settling on his desired destination.

A long, whale-like howl left Catherine's lips as his warm lips connected with her nipple, and she had to bury her face in his shoulder and bite down in order not to wake to slumbering teenager upstairs. The sensations he was causing in her body were incredible: he was sucking, nibbling, and licking her nipple, and soon the sensitive nub was a hard peak in his mouth and he diverted his attention to the other nipple.

Suddenly finding breathing too hard a task to accomplish, Catherine settled on nipping on the skin of Warrick's neck instead. He tasted like honey and felt like Heaven and she wasn't sure that if her life depended on it she'd be able to ever let go of him.

The fantasy she had given up so long ago was finally happening, taking her to a whole new plane of existence. She wasn't sure she could handle it if she suddenly woke up and realized it had all been a dream, or, worse, if Warrick decided to stop.

Nevertheless, sensing her apprehension, the man of her dreams released her nipple with a pop and rested his forehead against hers. She could feel his heated breath blowing on her face—and relished how good it felt—when his hand gently rested on her cheek and stroked all her fears away.

"Was your fantasy ever this real?" he whispered huskily, but she was too busy controlling her hormones in order not to climax just by hearing the sound of his voice—let alone his words—to register the meaning of his statement.

Her eyes lifted up to find his normally bright pools of green now heavily clouded with desire she had never seen before. Against her own will power, her nails dug into his side as she attempted to control her breathing and diminish the nagging ache in her core.

"God, no," she breathed in response before using her free hand to tangle in his thick hair and pull him closer. Warrick, however, much to her disapproval, avoided her lips and instead latched onto her neck, tugging the soft skin into his mouth.

Her body was on fire and she wasn't sure she could handle his ministrations any longer. She needed him inside of her.

With that in mind, she quickly reached between them to take hold of his belt buckle. She undid it as fast as her trembling fingers would allow her before pulling the leather material out of its loops quite vigorously. Warrick, apparently on the same path of thinking, reached for her own jeans and undid it just as quickly.

He finally let her down onto the ground in order for her to rid herself of her remaining parts of clothing, however for both of them to find that Catherine's legs had turned into jelly as she collapsed into his body. Warrick, nevertheless, took advantage of the opportunity to re-back her against the walls, his hands holding her sides securely.

As his lips, once again, began feasting on her neck, slowly trailing kisses down to the hollow of her throat, Catherine couldn't help the quiet moan leaving her lips, and she arched her back as well as neck, granting him more access to her sweet skin.

While kissing and licking his heart's desires, Warrick reached for the waistband of Catherine's jeans and, ever so slowly, dragged it down her legs. As the jeans were lowered gradually, so were his kisses. He dragged his full lips down her throat, neck, and the valley between her breasts before finally crouching before her to plant wet, open-mouthed kisses on her abdomen.

About the same time as her jeans came off, Catherine's abdominal muscles began dancing under Warrick's tantalizing touches, sending sparkles of excitement all throughout her body to finally settle between her legs, where she craved him the most.

The ache in the pit of her stomach was too intense to handle and she grabbed the sides of his head, trying to pull him back up, but Warrick, clearly with an entirely different idea in mind, proceeded to kiss his way down to her navel, where he stuck out his tongue and gently teased, releasing yet another strangled moan from the strawberry-blonde.

As his kisses traveled down to nether regions, Warrick helped Catherine step out of her jeans before stroking his way back up her legs to curl his fingers into the straps of her silken, pink panties.

In every relationship, there's a line that, once crossed, ones can never go back. This was that line. His fingers secured in the straps, Warrick finally raised his eyes to meet those ocean-blue ones he loved so much staring back down at him. Clearly with the same thought in mind, Catherine's body began trembling under Warrick's touch ever so slightly and she quickly shut her eyes to avoid his intense gaze and drew deep breaths into her lungs.

For years she had dreamed of this very moment. She had imagined it in her mind and she had prayed for it every time Warrick stood a little too close. It was now, though, with him ready to make the final step in their relationship, that she was so utterly terrified. Terrified of getting hurt, as she had been so many times in the past; terrified of hurting _him_.

Nevertheless, as she felt his lips of the skin of her lower abdomen again, she warily opened her eyes to find his green pools still staring at her intently. His fingers now gone from her panties, he held her hips securely in his grasp as he peppered her stomach with loving kisses.

"So beautiful," he murmured in almost a sing-song voice against her skin, and that and the penetrating look in his eyes were enough to stop her body from trembling. Instead, she managed a soft, nervous smile while running her fingers through his curls, and the longer his eyes were boring into hers, the more confident her smile became until she finally took hold of his hands and guided them back down to her underwear.

Without words, Warrick stared at her with an 'are you sure?' question in his eyes, and sh,e in response, nodded ever so slightly before shutting her eyes as she felt the soft material being pulled down her legs oh-so-slowly.

At the sound of Warrick's sharp intake of breath, she chanced another look at him to see him staring at her most intimate area, the panties halfway down her legs, with mesmerized eyes. Sensing her watching him, he looked up one more time and sent a reassuring smile her way before pulling the underwear all the way off her legs and running his hands back up them.

Upon reaching her magnificent thighs, he took tender hold of them and ever so gently urged them apart before scooting closer. Her legs now parted with the love of her life crouched between them, Catherine watched his every movement with wide, anticipating eyes as he tilted his head back and allowed his tongue to snake out. The moment it made its first contact with her clit, however, her eyes slammed shut and she threw her head back against the wall with a long moan erupting from her lips. He had hardly touched her yet and her insides were already ready to explode. She wasn't sure how she could handle any more.

But she was damn willing to wait and see.

Warrick couldn't help a throaty groan as he finally—_finally_—had his first taste of Catherine Willows. And Lord, was it so much better than anything his imagination had ever come up with. She had a hint of sweetness as well as a hint of spice, and she had what could only be describe as the pure taste of Catherine. He couldn't get enough.

As quickly as his tongue had made contact with her clit, it proceeded to settle just above her entrance and lick all the way back up, lapping up every drop of marvelous juices her body had to offer.

It was like eating a fresh fruit right off the tree; full of juice and life. Catherine's moans and gasps of pleasure just spurred him on to eat as much of that incredible fruit as he could get, and he gently closed his lips around her nub and sucked away his heart's desires. The sounds Catherine granted him in response only served to cause the tension beneath his jeans to heighten, but he ignored it for the time being, determined to properly pleasure that incredible woman he finally got to have.

It was short-lived, nevertheless, as Catherine—seemingly capable of reading his mind—palmed the sides of his face and, with much torturous determination, pulled his head away from between her legs. What Warrick saw when he finally opened his eyes had him gasping: The woman who'd always seemed to have it all together now had a storm raging in her usually dazzling eyes, her cheeks had a bright tint of pink to them, and her dry lips attempted to release ragged breaths that caused her chest to rise and sink rapidly.

Upon gathering some of her composure in order to find her voice—and form coherent thoughts and words in her head—Catherine stared down at Warrick with wide, dark eyes and breathed, nearly inaudibly, "Warrick… please…"

Those two words were all Warrick needed to shoot up to his feet and, as quickly as possible, rid his legs of his jeans. Catherine couldn't help but widen her eyes even more to the point where they nearly popped out of their sockets as she caught sight of the erection twitching excitedly beneath his black boxer briefs. However, she quickly managed to hide her surprise at his size—as well as her growing excitement—with a cheeky grin as she grasped his hips and pulled him closer.

As their lips met once again and their tongues began dueling almost immediately, Catherine was unable to suppress the moan erupting from her throat at the taste of her own juices on his tongue. Something about it felt so erotic to her that she was so lost in his kiss and mixed tastes to feel his strong hands cupping her bottom, and a squeal of surprise was muffled by his lips as her legs left the ground and she was, once again, secured in his strong grasp between his body and the wall.

This time, Catherine could very clearly feel Warrick's erection pressing against her thigh, and she broke the kiss, gasping for breath. "Please," she whispered, tugging on the waistband of his boxers, "hurry."

Warrick didn't need any more encouragement. Pecking her lips one more time, he took hold of his boxers and pushed them down his legs, finally freeing his straining erection. A ragged gasp left Catherine's lips as it twitched against her thigh again, and she licked her lips in anticipation to the upcoming, very welcome invasion to her body.

While peppering her neck with kisses (God, he couldn't get enough of her skin), Warrick took hold of his member and began rubbing the tip up and down her labia, lubricating it with her juices. It almost infuriated Catherine how torturously slowly he was going, and so, placing her palms on his chest, she pushed him back to get a look at his face. With a cheeky smile, she said, "Don't keep me waiting any longer, Brown."

Refusing her that wish was the last thing on Warrick's mind, and so, rubbing his erection against her moist slit one more time, he finally thrust inside, causing the strawberry-blonde in his arms to throw her head back with a long moan. He took advantage of the opportunity and latched onto her throat, sucking on her pulse point until he was sure he'd left a visible mark. Nevertheless, he was so fascinated with her delicate skin that he only realized he had stilled his movements when Catherine's heel dug into his bottom and her hips ground against his. He didn't need any more encouragement to start moving inside of her; slowly at first, sensually.

He wanted to bring this woman the ultimate pleasure, allow her to feel everything he ever felt for her, as well as take his time and study every curve of her body, every little noise she made as he moved within her warm walls, every facial expression she could muster in those moments of pure passion.

As Catherine's arms wrapped around his shoulders and held on to dear life and a thin layer of sweat began forming of her fair skin, he tucked a strand of silken hair behind her ear and let his warm hand rest on the side of her neck as he brought his lips close to her ear and breathed sweet endearments into it. That, combined with the steady thrusts of his hips, had Catherine gasping for air as her nails dug into his shoulder blades, bringing him a new kind of pain he was willing to experience at any time of any day.

For so long Catherine had dreamed and fantasized about this moment, to the point where she'd no longer seen it as more than just a fantasy. However, having the man occupying every single one of those fantasies now moving against her, inside of her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear felt almost surreal and so much better than anything her mind could ever come up with, and between the gasps and moans erupting from her lips almost involuntarily, she wondered how she had gotten to see the day her fantasy finally came true.

Just the thought of this dreamy man making love to her against a wall almost had her climaxing, so when he used his unoccupied hand to hold her up by her bottom and picked up his pace, it was her undoing. Momentarily, she forgot about her slumbering daughter as a scream that sounded foreign to her escaped her lips and her entire body curled around the one moving against her.

It was only when she finally began to come down from her high, her body trembling involuntarily, that she realized Warrick had never stopped thrusting throughout her orgasm with only one clear determination in mind: helping her experience absolute pleasure.

It was time to return the favor, she decided, and with a smirk began flexing her inner muscles, reveling in the erotic sounds she received in response.

"You're bad," she heard him mutter against her ear and could just sense his smile. A second later he was moving faster, at the same time bringing her down on his member to meet his every thrust. Catherine had to bite her lip to the point where it actually hurt to stop herself from reaching another release before he had the chance to experience that bliss for the first time.

She didn't have to wait much longer, though, as a few thrusts later Warrick's rhythm faltered and she saw the little droplets of sweat forming just above his furrowed eyebrows as he filled her up with everything he had to give. It was enough for her body to tense up again as all coherent thoughts vanished from her head and left her completely limp and exhausted against his body.

The room, earlier filled by the sound of the pair's moans and heavy breaths, was now quiet but for the occasional panting or intake of breath. There were so many matters requiring a conversation, yet at the same time no words were needed after what they had both just experienced and both Catherine and Warrick just relished the feeling of each other's cooling bodies coming down from the high of their climaxes together.

"I don't think I'm gonna be able to walk for a while," Catherine finally broke the silence and relished in the vibrations Warrick's reverberating laugh sent throughout her body.

"Was that part of that fantasy of yours?" he muttered against her shoulder before planting a kiss on it.

Catherine's features turned softer as she placed her hand on the back of his neck and wordlessly encouraged him to face her. When their faces finally met, she smiled softly at him and brushed the backs of her fingers against his cheek. "The fantasies were never this good."

Warrick's response was to press his lips to hers in the most tender and loving kiss she had ever experienced and she never wanted that fantastic moment to end. Warrick, however, had another idea in mind as he sighed against her lips before lowering his head to her neck and sniffing in her sweet scent.

"I'm gonna break it off," he whispered, bringing a frown to her face. However, before she could question the meaning behind his words—or panic that he regretted what they had just done—realization hit her and she placed her hands on his shoulders for support as she slowly climbed down from his embrace. Her legs wiggled slightly upon hitting the ground, but she forced them to stand steady as she rested a hand on his cheek.

"No." She shook her head and tried to hide the genuine sorrow in her eyes.

"What?" Warrick couldn't help but frown. "But… we just…"

"You made a commitment, Warrick," she replied earnestly. "You can't back down."

Warrick couldn't hide the hurt in his features as he asked, "So what about us?"

Catherine, in response, hung her head. She'd thought it had been hard giving up her fantasy the first time, before she'd actually had a chance to live it, but now, after experiencing Warrick's touch, taste, _love_, looking into his eyes as she gave it up for the second time would surly kill her.

She should have known, however, that Warrick wasn't one to give up on things so easily. It was one of the first things she had learned about him at work and it was one of the things she admired most about him.

As he gently cupped her chin in his hand and lifted her head, he saw in her eyes the same look he had seen the previous night when she'd realized she needed to make peace with the fact that her fantasy would never come true. And now, after granting her—and himself—that fantasy, he wouldn't allow her to accept the same fact again, secretly because he didn't want to accept it either.

"You really think you were the only one who's wanted this all this time?" he said in the softest of voices and Catherine found it almost impossible not to fall in love with the hint of a smile on his lips. Her heart, just recovering from their earlier physical activity, skipped a beat at his words, and the look in their eyes told both of them no further explanations were necessary. "This is one thing I'm not willing to back down from."

* * *

><p><strong>Sooo, I think I might write a sequel. Tell me what you think.<strong>

**Thanks for reading (:**


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